


night noises.

by Sam (iStuhler)



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 14:06:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iStuhler/pseuds/Sam
Summary: jamie knows he must look ridiculous, his large frame crammed into the slightly smaller rocking chair he’d built for claire, sat on the porch with four-month-old mandy in his arms. she’s so small, her wee head resting in the crook of jamie’s arm as she sleeps, lulled by the gentle rocking of the chair.





	night noises.

jamie knows he must look _ridiculous_ , his large frame crammed into the slightly smaller rocking chair he’d built for claire, sat on the porch with four-month-old mandy in his arms. she’s so _small_ , her wee head resting in the crook of jamie’s arm as she sleeps, lulled by the gentle rocking of the chair. mandy is why he’s _in_ the chair in the first place, as the motion seems to calm her down. and it’s nice for jamie to simply sit, especially after a long day, and talk to his granddaughter. she can’t understand anything he says, and he’s not saying anything now that she’s asleep, but earlier he thinks they had a rousing conversation, with lots of stories of horses on his end and some earnest drooling on her part.

the front door opens and brianna walks out onto the porch, turning to see jamie and mandy. she smiles, and comes over to sink down on a stool, skirts billowing around her as she leans over and rests her head against jamie’s arm. the skin beneath his shirt grows warm with the heat of her cheek, and it’s an easy motion for jamie to turn his head and press a kiss to the crown of brianna’s head. he shuts his eyes for the briefest of moments, imagining what it would have been like to have been able to cradle _her_ when she was a wee thing, to kiss the red wisps of hair sprouting from her head, to lay in bed with her to his chest, her small body rising and falling with his breath… but then the vision is gone, and there he sits again, his grown daughter leaning against him and his granddaughter in his arms.

it’s starting to get dark, the air growing slowly more cool as the humidity fades and dusk settles in. the ridge during the day is welcoming, but at night the darkness becomes absolute. it’s one of jamie’s favorite things to do, to stand in the center of the dooryard and watch as the sky fills with stars, as they wink into existence. the moon is all that lights the settlement most nights, unless someone has lit a fire in the yard, and while it can feel as if the forest is closing in on him at times, most nights it’s calming.

someone, probably claire, is moving around the house behind him, and the window over his shoulder glows suddenly with a warm, wavering glow — she must have lit a candle, setting it in the window. 

jamie looks down at mandy, his other hand coming up to brush some of her hair off of her forehead. “what a bonnie wee lass ye are,” he murmurs softly to her, turning to smile at his daughter, who reaches out with her own hand and sets it on top of jamie’s, her smaller, slender hand in contrast with his own larger one. 

“she looks more like roger,” brianna notes, her own voice soft. around them, the woods are starting to come alive with night noises — the birds have stopped, but now the frogs and crickets and other bugs have begun to sing their song. jamie can see flashes of light in his periphery, lightning bugs flitting around the posts of claire’s garden. and she’s right, of course — mandy’s hair is dark, and jamie thinks that soon she’ll have curls.

“and like yer mother—“ jamie points out, which makes bree smile. 

“jem looks like you,” she says, her fingers still resting on jamie’s, “and mandy looks like mama. it’s not like we’d ever forget you, not like we _could_ … but we’ll always have them to remind us.” her voice cracks as she speaks.

something grips jamie’s heart tightly and _squeezes_ , and he turns to look at his daughter. perhaps if he could just stare at her a little longer, then he’d be able to memorize every inch of her face… 

he doesn’t want her to _go_. he knows she has to, knows she **needs** to, for the sake of the child. but all he wants to do is wrap his arms around her, around roger and jem and mandy, and _never_ let go. if it meant giving up everything else in his life in order to have his wife and children and grandchildren by him always… he’d live as a man with nothing but his family for the rest of his life, gladly.

his eyes lift to meet hers, gazes locking… and he realizes that she’s likely thinking the same thing.


End file.
